


put your money on me

by starkovs



Series: 30 minute stories [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Domestic Fluff, Drabble, F/M, Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Mentions of May Parker, Post-Movie, Precious Peter Parker, lots of cuddling is involved, michelle is sick, unedited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 11:36:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14831543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkovs/pseuds/starkovs
Summary: When Michelle wakes up sick, Peter's there to provide some comfort.“What’s wrong baby?” he asks. She doesn’t know how to verbalize it, mostly because she doesn’t understand logically the sudden shame that lapses over her. People get sick all of the time. She just hates the fact that Peter is there to witness such a vulnerable moment for her. He pulls her back towards him and starts to whisper again, “Hey you’re going to feel better okay. We’ll stay in today.”





	put your money on me

**Author's Note:**

> hello! we're back at it with a quick mj/peter fix while i continue to write my much longer fics that are currently in motion. we're currently at 10k with one of the stories! 
> 
> last night, i woke up feeling a little sick and this morning as well, so i decided to distract myself from being bedridden by writing a lil something about michelle & peter. you know i love spideychelle. 
> 
> warnings: description of vomiting, some mentions of intimacy and otherwise intimate, fluffy things. tho overall this is still really clean! there's nothing sexual involved.
> 
> also note: they are aged up in this story.  
> another note: you can [follow me on tumblr](http://mjchellewatson.tumblr.com/) to send in prompts or just so we can chat about spideychelle!

Michelle woke up in a cold sweat. It’d still been dark outside, the moonlight barely illuminating the bedroom as she tried to register her surroundings. As she sat up, she noticed a weird, stirring sensation in her stomach and the feeling of something sour spreading across her tongue. 

“You okay?” the sleeping boy beside her rasped. She hadn’t even noticed that Peter had started to stir. She didn’t get the time to answer his question because in the next few seconds, she was sprinting across the floorboards of his apartment and practically throwing herself into his bathroom. She propped herself up at his toilet, preparing for all the bile to rise. She hadn’t thrown up in years; she forgot what it felt like to be in this position. 

Not even a second later, the door swung open again, revealing a very disheveled Peter Parker. His eyes were wide as he sat on his knees behind her, one of his hands moving back to hold her hair and the other soothingly rubbing her back. She remembered feeling like something was stinging inside of her until all this bile started pouring out of her mouth. In the background, she could faintly hear Peter whispering, “It’s okay. You’re okay.” 

When she finishes, her throat still feels a little bit of a sting inside of it. Peter’s still there, trying to coax her and she can’t help feeling the embarrassment of it all. When Peter flushes the toilet, she racks out a sob, covering her face with her hands so he can’t see her tears. 

“What’s wrong baby?” he asks. She doesn’t know how to verbalize it, mostly because she doesn’t understand logically the sudden shame that lapses over her. People get sick all of the time. She just hates the fact that Peter is there to witness such a vulnerable moment for her. He pulls her back towards him and starts to whisper again, “Hey you’re going to feel better okay. We’ll stay in today.”

He has her stand up so she can brush her teeth really quick, and he joins in, brushing his teeth as well and sending her winks through the mirror. When they wrap up, he moves her to plop down on his ottoman. He leaves the room briefly, making promises to be back. Michelle glances around the room, her eyes landing on his alarm clock that states it’s 5:23 in the morning. She sighs, rubbing her eyes a bit. Her cheeks are a little bit damp still from her earlier tears. Though she feels better, there’s an uneasiness that settles in her stomach. 

Peter comes back after a few minutes, with a towel and a mug. He lays the towel on her side of the bed and sets the mug in her hands. 

“It’s ginger tea,” he explains. “May used to make it for me.” She takes a sip of the tea, immediately tasting the spice and feeling relaxed at the warmth. While she drinks her tea, Peter changes out her satin pillow for one of his. He steps into the bathroom, coming back with a silk scarf and a scrunchie.

“M’not very good at this,” he murmurs, gathering her hair up so it sits at the top of her head and putting the scrunchie around it. She relaxes as he starts to wrap the silk scarf around her head. “That’s not too tight, right?” She shakes her head. There’s something strangely intimate about the process. She knows the closeness she feels with him when they have sex, but there’s something so much more personal about the way he’s delicately handling her hair right now. It’s the fact that he’s integrated herself so much into her daily routine that he knows the way she handles small things like keeping her curls intact over night, that makes her heart do a quick somersault. When he’s done, he rubs her back softly again and she eases into him a bit. She’s still working her way through the ginger tea that Peter made for her when he decides to turn on his television to Netflix and puts on a documentary about Princess Diana on low volume. She sighs against him and takes another sip of the tea.

When she finally finishes the cup, he runs the mug back to the kitchen. When he comes back, she’s already planted herself on her side of the bed, sitting up on top of the towel he’s laid over the mattress. He plops over next to her, this time handing her a cup of water. 

“Drink it slowly,” he instructs. “Only small sips.”

Eventually, she’s able to set down the cup of water and lay on her side again. Peter hooks the bottom of his feet with hers, drawing comforting circles along her heel with one of his toes. She sighs blissfully and slowly, her eyes flutter shut. 

When she wakes up in the morning, she notices the air smells faintly like peppermint. She feels a little bit better, but there’s still an uneasiness with her stomach. Her eyes shift toward Peter, who shoots her a soft smile and tells her that he scheduled a doctor’s appointment for her in two hours. He offers to prep a bath for her, which she accepts. He steps out to run a bath, while Michelle slowly sits up again. There’s another cup of water for her at her bedside table, along with a small plate of toast. She slowly snacks on the food and takes small sips of the cup of water, up until Peter calls her name to say her bath is ready.

He walks her over, helping her undress and step in. She instantly relaxes once the warm water touches her skin and is surprised when Peter steps in behind her. Yet, she finds it much better to lean against him then the harsh wall of the tub. 

And like that, Peter does most of the work. He runs the bar of black soap along her skin and presses kisses along her neck. He even grabs an exfoliating bar and rubs it along her elbows, feet, underneath her breasts, and all over her back and neck. 

Even after the brief bath, he does it again, running lotion over her legs and thighs. She’s propped up on the toilet which she just threw up into approximately four hours ago, but that whole segment of her day feels like it was so long ago. Admittedly, she’s a bit overcome with how much Peter is taking care of her and he seems to sense it, since his eyes flicker up to her. 

“I love you,” she breathes. Peter’s eyes soften. 

“I love you too, MJ.”


End file.
